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in Mr. Pearse's genial, homely style, and will come home to many hearts.

Morning Thoughts are meditations with which it would be well for all Christians to begin the day, and to revert to in hours of temptation. They show how alone the prayer may be answered: 'Vouchsafe, O Lord, to keep us this day without sin!'

Short Sermons for Little People. By the Rev. T. Champness. London: Wesleyan Conference Office.-We have here five lively little addresses to children, which are sure to be popular; and better still, are just the thing to touch young hearts. The first sermon, A Little Coat, is a perfect model of a sermon for a child.

Brownlow North: The Story of his Life and Work. Popular Edition. By the Rev. K. Moody-Stuart, M. A. London: Hodder and Stoughton.-This portable, handy little volume is likely to be more widely read and more generally popular than the bulky book which was noticed in our pages a few months ago. The narrative is rather improved than impaired by many of the omissions. This well-written record of an eminently useful Evangelist ought to have a wide circulation.

A Homiletic Commentary on the Book of Proverbs. No. 7. By the Rev. W.


The Study and Homiletic Monthly. No. 5., Vol. III. London: Richard D. Dickinson. 1879. So far as it is possible to judge from a single part, dealing only with portions of two chapters, the Commentary on the Proverbs is quite equal to the general run of works of its class. The suggestive comments' are well selected from a rather wide range of authors.

The Study and Homiletic Monthly pursues the even tenor of its way, the present number differing but slightly in character from its predecessors. You may generally expect in this periodical one or two valuable articles, a considerable amount of sketches of sermons of varying merit, and a number of extracts of more or less use to a Preacher. The palm this month is borne by the concluding section of Dr. Talbot Chambers's Lectures.

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their knowledge of the Christian faith.' This excellent idea is well carried out. The Bishop's 'Heroes' are those whose life-work he regards as typical of the Missionary spirit of their time. Hence some few famed and devoted Missionaries are missing from his list, whilst he seeks to rescue from oblivion others whose names are scarcely known, except to students of ecclesiastical history. His faithful, discriminating sketches of their life and work are well worth perusal. He carefully exhibits their weakness as well as their strength. The book is a safe one for young people, and can scarcely fail to awaken or revive intelligent interest in the cause of Missions.

That Boy: Who shall have Him? By the Rev. W. H. Daniels, A.M. London: Hodder and Stoughton.-The central figure in this thoroughly American story is not That Boy,' but his mother, Mrs. John Mark Leighton, whose character is well-drawn and well-sustained. The chapters which give an account of Mrs. Leighton's life in an orthodox,' i.e., ultra-Calvinistic neighbourhood, sketch with real power and slight exaggeration the influence of the heartless teachings of the inferential theology' which bids a man to rejoice in his own and his friends' eternal reprobation. The vigour of the opening chapters is not, however, preserved throughout, and some of the conversations are almost puerile. The supernatural element, too, is introduced to an extent which, even at the risk of being called 'Sadducees,' we cannot but deprecate. The book would have been more effective, both artistically and morally, if Mr. Daniels had confined his story more closely to the ordinary experiences of the present life. The author does not profess to have made Mrs. Leighton the exponent of his own views, but contents himself with saying in the Preface that perhaps she is more than half right after all.' The teach ing of the book is thus rather tentative than dogmatic, and as such is of considerable interest. The reader who takes it with a grain of salt will be the better for having read it.

The Romance of the Streets. By a London Rambler. Seventh Edition. London: Hodder and Stoughton.-This is an interesting book on an interesting subject. The writer gives prominence to the brighter side of the character of the lowest class of society, and shows how much of kindliness there is even amongst the poorest and the roughest. The facts are to a large extent taken from the reports, etc., of the London City Mission.

We cannot help expressing regret that before the book reached its seventh edition, its literary inelegancies and grammatical blunders were not corrected.

Forbidden Fruit: Sermons on Temptation. By the Rev. Johnson Barker, LL.B. London: W. Kent and Co. 1879. -In a very modest Preface Mr. Barker tells us that these sermons are published in compliance with the wish of many who heard them delivered. We are not at all surprised at this, for any intelligent congregation would be glad to possess such discourses in a permanent form. The sermons on The Temptations of Business and The Temptations of Home are especially good. The author never tries to be eloquent, but plainly and pointedly puts his case, just as it seems to us it should be put. We hope the volume will have an extensive circulation. We are sorry to say

anything in depreciation of a book with which as a whole we so thoroughly agree, but it is only right to remark that in the first sermon, The Tempter, there are several very incautious statements, from which we most decidedly dissent.

Entering on Life: A Book for Young Men. By Cunningham Geikie, D.D. Seventh Edition. London: Strahan and Company-Books for young men' abound. This is really good, but hardly one of the very best. Any intelligent man might read it with profit, for the counsel is throughout trustworthy, and the quotations and illus trations which make up a considerable portion of the book are apt and striking. Dr. Geikie is perhaps a little verbose, and many of his allusions to classical literature will be utterly unintelligible to numbers of those into whose hands his work is likely to come.



THE life of our Exemplar, the Incarnate Son of God, for thirty years in the carpenter's shop, in the home at Nazareth, has taught us the grandeur and nobility of quiet, unostentatious devotion to simple daily duties. And such a life-of course at an infinite distance from His, and yet in dependence on, and in union with Hislived, for fourscore years, one of His meek followers, whose course and character we would here sketch. She has no history that the world would think worthy to be chronicled; and yet, unless I am very much blinded by filial affection, the little that is known of her tells of one of those sweet saints whom the painter Angelico would have loved to portray: undistinguished, and yet glorified by love for her dear Lord, and labour for His sake.

CHRISTIANA HAMMOND owed her baptismal name to the fact that she was born on Old Christmas Day. But if her parents had foreknown 'what manner of child' this should be, they could hardly have chosen a name more descriptive of her future character. She was precisely a Christian woman, and that was all that she wished to be. She was born in 1796, in that part of the great champaign of Lincolnshire which is known as 'the Levels,' par excel lence. Her father, Mr. Richard Jennings, was a large farmer there. Christiana was the ninth child in a family of twelve. I

have heard her tell how their home was so secluded and their life so uneventful, that when by chance a traveller or a pedlar passed along the highway, the sisters would summon each other to the spectacle, rushing into the house, and crying, 'Chrissy! Lizzy! there's a man!' Here she enjoyed a peaceful, sheltered childhood. The French proverb says, 'Every great man is the son of his mother.' It was to her mother that Christiana Hammond owed her Christian principle, her decision of character, her tender conscience, her rare charity. Her father was a parent of a type now almost extinct. The children never dared to speak, or to seat themselves in his presence. He was cut off in the prime of life, when my mother was but nine years old. Called away from home, he was put into a damp bed. This neglect deprived a mother and twelve children of their protector and breadwinner.

The children were comfortably provided for; but Christiana, who could well be spared out of a family of ten daughters, was soon afterwards adopted by a childless aunt who lived in London. Here she attended the ministry of the Independents. She often said that she did not remember the time when she was without religious convictions, or when she did not love and fear God. It was at Barnsley, to which place her aunt removed on her husband's

death, that Miss Jennings joined the Methodist Society. But though regular in her attendance at Class, and diligent in the Sunday-school and other spheres of Christian work, she did not in after life regard herself as at this time in the enjoyment of true religion. For when her Leader one day pointedly asked her whether she could testify that God had for Christ's sake pardoned her sins, she felt that she could not; but, with characteristic determination, vowed that she would not rest until she could, and erelong she was rejoicing in the peace of God, which passeth all understanding.' Not long afterwards, she herself became a Class Leader, an office the duties of which she discharged through life with singular fidelity and zeal.

But the most remarkable feature in her character was perhaps her devotion to the sick and poor. To visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction,' was her delight from the commencement of her Christian course. On the death of her aunt in 1829, she rejoined her mother in Doncaster, where she gave herself fully to the work of God, the sick and needy being, as ever, her special care. In 1836 she was married to Mr. George Hammond, of Leeds. Having now more abundant leisure than she had enjoyed before and also more money at her command, she became 'a succourer of many.' She would constantly leave home early in the morning and spend the larger part of the day in the homes of the poor in the part of the town in which her husband's mills were situated. At this time she had two Classes in connection with St. Peter's Chapel, meeting in the vestries adjoining the old 'Boggart House.'

Two sons were born to her, each of whom was taken by the nurse, as soon after birth as was deemed prudent, and formally offered to God in the chapel. But this was no idle form; for as soon as they could walk, their mother took them regularly every evening to her room, and there she not only prayed earnestly with them and for them, but encouraged them, as soon almost as they could lisp, to pray in their childish fashion to the great Father of spirits. She was a woman of much and fervent prayer; she always rose about six o'clock, and the first hours of the day were devoted to communion with God. One of the present writer's earliest recollections is that he always found his mother kneeling by his bedside when he awoke. After breakfast she would again retire to her room; and there were few of her connections and friends who were not remembered in her prayers. And they were real prayers-petitions for definite graces and

blessings addressed to One in Whose presence and prayer-hearing she had implicit faith.

I can well remember-I can never forget the 'strong crying and tears' with which she often made her supplications. A gardener, who sometimes worked beneath her 'closet' windows, has confessed to members of her family how much he was awed and impressed by the plaintive fervour of her devotions. And if the day brought any special event-joy or sorrowshe would quietly leave the household circle and would spread it before the Father Who seeth in secret. It was also the custom in her family to devote the first hour after tea to united prayer, and in her last sickness, when the poor weary mind was losing its force, the ruling passion of her life was strikingly evinced. Pray, pray,' she would often say: 'I love prayer!'

In 1848, Mr. Hammond removed to Chapeltown, a suburb of Leeds, and here our mother was called to part with her first-born. This deep sorrow was mingled with the joy of seeing that hor prayers and pious example had not been in vain. Though for twenty weeks the poor boy could not lie down, and though harassed with a distressing cough, his unfailing patience and his sweet and simple trust in the Lover of souls gladdened the hearts of his friends. In 1852, her husband was taken from her, with terrible suddenness; but ere the spirit passed away, she had the satisfaction of hearing from his lips the precious words, Jesus died for me; He's my Saviour.' During this period, and indeed for seven years after leaving Leeds, though she had gathered a new Class round her at Chapeltown, she still retained her Class at St. Peter's Chapel, and every Thursday, wet or fine, summer or winter, found her at her post, though the place of meeting was three miles distant from her home, and though her strength now began to fail. She used to confess with a sort of playful regret that she had once been late-two minutes late.

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Her attendance at the means of grace was most exemplary. Few things hindered her from being present at the Prayer-meeting; none, absence from home excepted, at the Class-meeting. I have not mentioned sickness, for it was one of the many mercies of God to her that she scarcely knew what that meant. She would often say, 'I will go while I can: the time will perhaps come when I cannot go.' And so, at all hours, on the Sunday morning at seven, as well as on the week-day afternoons and evenings, and in all weathers, the villagers were accustomed to see the sweet old lady, with her bright, bonny face, and her snowwhite hair, plodding to the place where

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prayer was wont to be made.' Not that she ever sacrificed the active duties of her religion to the contemplative. The cowl does not make the monk,' and she was a true sister of charity, without the garb. Her visits to the poor were not discontinued till she was completely disabled by the infirmities of age. And those who knew her -and there were few of the poor in her neighbourhood, at one period of her life, who did not know her-will admit that the words which were so dear to her, and which she meekly sought to realize:' She hath done what she could,' were her meed of praise, and that she has taught by her example that 'charity is the calling of a lady, and the care of the poor is her profession.'

But even when laid aside from the active duties of life, her work for the Lord was by no means at an end. Indeed, it seemed to some of us that her Christian graces had never burned more brightly than they did in retirement. Her vivacity, her playfulness even in old age, made her room an attractive spot to many, both young and old, and few left her without some word about their highest interests. All through life, indeed, she had made a point of speaking about their souls to those with whom she came in contact, whenever opportunity offered. Sometimes, it is true, she made enemies by her faithfulness, but not a few she won for God; and even those who resented her words at the time, respected her for them in their secret hearts, and some who had professed themselves much affronted, cried out for her in their last moments. She once spoke about religion to an officer of rank, who thanked her for so doing, and said she was the first person who had ever said a word to him about his soul.

And though she spoke pointedly, she was no Pharisee. Her tender-heartedness and her sense of unworthiness were most touching. If she did not spare others, she did not spare herself. Her sensitive conscience would often flagellate her for some supposed shortcoming. If she thought she had grieved or injured any one, by thought or word, she would betake herself to prayer, and with many tears would bewail her fault. It has been remarked how much is said in Scripture about the tears of St. Paul. Tears were characteristic of my mother's religion, and they were not all tears of sorrow. The goodness of God, the passion of our Redeemer, the love of the Spirit, her daily mercies, she could hardly think or speak of without emotion, but it was an emotion 'full of all blessed conditions.' Such tears as these are the wine of the angels.'

And so, as infirmities gained upon her,

and as gently and tenderly the earthly tabernacle was taken to pieces, without pain, without disease, those around her saw her growing in grace and ripening for the eternal harvest. As the end approached, her charities-in every sense of the word-increased. She had always been a generous giver, but only since her death has it been known how much she gave away, and of late years it was only by unsparing self-denial that she could have much to give. She thought it no hardship to save: indeed, she made it a matter of religion to save for the sake of her many pensioners. She would constantly forego the few little luxuries of her table, that she might send them to the sick. Indeed, she would have almost impoverished herself had not others interfered to stay her hand.

On the 29th November, 1876, after four months of painless decay, this life of fourscore years came to a close. She had often desired and prayed for a triumphant departure, for a death in which she might witness a good confession; but God ordered it otherwise. It pleased Him that she should rather bear witness that the way in which we live is the chief concern. Her life had been consecrated to Him: we may rest assured He did not suffer her in her last hour, 'for any pains of death, to fall from Him.

Hers was a life, in one sense, commonplace enough. It is not pretended that Mrs. Hammond had any striking or excep tional mental powers. Neither is it implied that hers was a character without faults and imperfections. But there was nevertheless something out of the common in this humble, simple life; there were qualities which perhaps rank higher in the appraisement of Heaven than many which make much more show and are much more esteemed in this world. There was a tender love for her Lord, a devotion to His blessed will, a self-sacrifice for His sake, a yearning compassion for the souls for whom He died, which, in the eyes of Him Who seeth not as man seeth, must have made her of great price, and shall make her to shine as the brightness of the firmament,' and 'as the stars for ever and ever.' I am not a member of the Communion in which my mother lived and which she loved, and my theology differs in many particulars from hers and theirs; but as I think of that sweet saint, of her hopes and belief, of her prayers and tears, of her rare charity and still rarer piety, I pray our common Lord that I may be found worthy of a humble place with her in His eternal and glorious kingdom.

A friend thus describes her as she was towards and at the close of life:

'My acquaintance with Mrs. Hammond did not commence until she had passed her seventieth year. At that time age had not impaired the activity of her slight, erect figure, and only enhanced the venerable grace and charming neatness of her aspect. Her countenance always beamed with the light of truth and charity, although it wore the expression which spiritual conflict, safely and victoriously past, always leaves. Her conversation, full of sprightliness and versatility, indicated broad, mental sympathies, with the readiest inclination to pleasantry and cheerfulness, yet charged with solemnity on sacred themes. Her watchful care over her own spirit, which had been a life-long work, and more than half a century of blessed experience in seeking and helping the salvation of others, had made her a very oracle on all matters of the inner life, to which a multitude of friends gladly repaired when some crisis of the soul made such counsel as she could give especially valuable. The unflinching fidelity, the Scriptural wisdom, the gracious ten

derness with which she dealt with souls were great gifts of God which she used without regard to any results to herself, and far beyond the ordinary limits of Christian usefulness. Nearly to the end of her days she delighted in the fellowship of good books. Her attachment to Methodism was loyal and permanent. Its spiritual principles were the topics of her chosen meditation and favourite converse, and her acquaintance with its history and best examples was very extensive. Her last affliction was painful and mysterious, but faith survived the failure of strength, and 'great joy' shone through the cloud of anxieties which overshadowed her approach to the grave. Her delight in prayer, and her habitual concern for the bodies and souls of her fellow-creatures, did not disappear until the troubled and swollen waters of death had quenched the last spark of this mortal life in her. The Church of God will long cherish the memory of her fully consecrated talents, and her fruitful services to the cause they love.'


WILLIAM RIGGALL, of Tetford, near Horncastle, entered into rest December 14th, 1875, aged seventy-one years. He was for many years a devoted and consistent member of the Wesleyan-Methodist Church, a liberal supporter of its various interests, and filled most acceptably several offices in connection with the Society, besides leading the singing in Tetford Chapel for upwards of fifty years. His parents were Wesleyan-Methodists. His mother died when he was eight years old, and at the age of seventeen he lost his father also. In the morning of life he was the subject of religious impressions, but did not continue in the grace of God, though amiable in disposition, correct in outward life and of untarnished reputation from his youth. He was superintendent of the Sabbath-school.

His conversion took place in 1842. Being left in charge of the school one Sabbath, without any teachers who were members of Society, and not being able himself to open the school with prayer, he sent for a neighbour to open it. The necessity for this so wrought upon him as to lead him to seek for the requisite qualification for his office; and soon afterwards he obtained a knowledge of salvation by the remission

of sins.

Possessing good abilities and being held in high esteem, he was almost immediately


appointed a Leader, which office he continued to fill with credit to himself and profit to others to the end of life. With godly fidelity and loving care he watched over and ministered to the members of his Classes. His piety was genuine and progressive. He was not given to change. He held fast the profession of his faith without wavering. His religion was a principle and a power-a thing not only of knowledge, but also of experience. He exercised himself unto godliness. obedience of faith followed the sprinkling of the blood of Jesus. His grasp of great Christian verities was intelligent and clear; his demeanour grave and serious; his temperament bright and cheerful. Beneath a quiet exterior ran an undercurrent of earnestness. His poverty of spirit was deep. His habits were retiring; his goodness unobtrusive. He was eminently 'of a meek and quiet spirit.' He was never heard to speak well of himself, or ill of his neighbour. His character was gradually moulded to completeness. He was warmly attached to the Preachers.' He was given to hospitality. His attendance on the ordinances of the sanctuary, both on the Sabbath and week-day, was most exemplary. His greatest joy was to witness the prosperity of the Church. He commanded his household after him, and had

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